Peruvian President Pedro Pablo Kuczynski’s commutation of former President Alberto Fujimori’s prison sentence – in exchange for some fujimorista support against his impeachment by Congress on corruption charges – has thrown the country’s politics into a tailspin and increased the prospects of prolonged national crisis.

PPK was accused of involvement in corrupt deals with Peruvian and Brazilian construction companies – part of the massive Brazil-based Lava Jato scandal – while he was Minister of Economy and Prime Minister under President Alejandro Toledo (2001-06). By ordering Fujimori’s release, he rewarded Kenji Fujimori and dissident Fuerza Popular MPs, who’d already split with party leader and sister Keiko over her wavering commitment to get their father out of jail at all cost, for their votes against the impeachment. After emphatically denying he would do so, PPK granted Fujimori a humanitarian pardon on medical grounds, after which the former President experienced a recovery robust enough to resume political activism just days later.

The Fujimori indulto has aggravated deep and longstanding tensions within and among the country’s parties and civil society. After the impeachment proceedings collapsed, three of PPK`s MPs and three of his ministers resigned in protest, and even the lawyer who defended him against impeachment has denounced his actions as a political scam. PPK’s popular approval has sunk to 20 percent, and reliable polls show that more than half of the population rejects the indulto. Protests are growing. Some 30,000 to 40,000 people marched through Lima on January 11, condemning the collusion of corrupt elites to protect each other, and more demonstrations are planned.

Longtime observers in Lima say that the pro-Fujimori Fuerza Popular remains deeply divided as siblings Kenji and Keiko are at each other’s throats over the control of the party and relations with the PPK administration. Even if Alberto and Kenji Fujimori continue to support PPK for a while, open wounds from the close presidential race between PPK and Keiko in 2016 complicate cooperation and in fact may deepen the riff as Keiko’s close collaborators now accuse the PPK camp causing the Fuerza Popular crisis, even denouncing that fujimorista votes were paid for. Informed speculation is that Keiko will fan the flames of scandal enveloping PPK (even though she reportedly has her own liabilities in Lava Jato) pushing for his fall in hopes of securing early elections rather than waiting until 2021.

The left, centrist sectors, and even some conservatives such as Nobel Prize novelist Mario Vargas Llosa have given up any pretense of coexisting with PPK. Human rights organizations and trade unions are demanding Alberto Fujimori be sent back to prison; denouncing the “corrupt alliance” between PPK, the Fujimoris, and the business elites; and insisting that ongoing investigations be pursued no matter who they bring down. In some sectors, the leftist call for a new Constitution breaking the bond between the state and big business is gaining support.

PPK is a lame duck president with general elections still four years away. In Congress, which is presided over by a forceful opponent – Luis Galarreta – his base has shrunk to 15 MPs, and he depends heavily on the support of fair-weather friends like Alberto and Kenji Fujimori. The economy grew 2.7 percent last year, according to the Central Bank, but fell short of targets. Lava Jato – which has already landed former President Ollanta Humala in jail and prompted extradition proceedings against former President Toledo (living in the United States) – is not going away, with new information expected soon from Brazil. Popular rejection of the political class, which is seen as corrupt and cynical, will deepen. Talk in Lima isn’t about if PPK will go, but when. His fate at this moment appears to depend less on his own cunning and more on the political calculations and unstable relations between the two Fujimori factions and the rest of the parties in Congress and on the strength of street protests.

President Dilma Rousseff’s foreign policy was less active than President Lula’s, but Brazil has lost prominence in international politics even faster since her impeachment almost exactly one year ago. According to the Soft Power 30 survey, Brazil now ranks 29th in international influence, having ranked 24th in 2016. One reason is both domestic and political: President Temer’s government has had to struggle to be recognized as legitimate. The other is strategic: a wrong bet made by the new heads of Brazil’s foreign affairs.

Temer left the Ministry of Foreign Relations in the hands of the Social-Democratic Party (PSDB), appointing São Paulo Senator Jose Serra – at that stage a potential presidential candidate – as foreign minister. Temer and his PSDB partners’ most important project was to align Brazil more closely with the United States. In parallel, they sought to progressively dismantle the South-South international policy that President Lula championed and President Rousseff continued, with its focus on the BRICS countries.

Their approach was based, however, on the expectation that Hillary Clinton would win the U.S. election, and they had no “Plan B” for collaboration with the Trump Administration and its significantly different view toward Latin America and Brazil. Unable to rescue the heart of his policy, Serra resigned after nine months, claiming health issues, and another PSDB senator and political ally, Aloysio Nunes, took the job with a clear plan to align Brazil with the international market. Brazil’s application to the OECD was done fast and without controversy.

At the same time, several important issues have been disempowering Brazil’s foreign policy.

MERCOSUR and UNASUR. The most important diplomatic capital Brazil built in the past 20 years – launched by President Cardoso, deepened and revamped by Lula, and maintained by Dilma – was the broad South American cooperation built in MERCOSUR and, later, UNASUR. Temer has refocused the former on trade and essentially abandoned the latter. The country’s vision for broad integration has fallen prey to ideological suspicions.

Venezuela. By shaming President Maduro as a dictator, Brazil essentially disqualified itself as a possible neutral player in efforts to resolve the Venezuela crisis, the most important challenge in South America today. Many Brazilian observers believe Brasilia’s absence could mean a blank check to a still unknown and unpredictable White House policy on Latin America. President Trump’s recent suggestion of a possible military intervention in Venezuela has deepened those concerns.

Corruption. The Temer Administration is poorly positioned to push for the sort of initiatives that many governments and societies need to combat corruption. The problem has deep roots, but Temer’s rise to power in the wake of a campaign attacking alleged corruption by Lula and Dilma gives greater salience to his own shortcomings. The Attorney General’s Office and the Lava Jato investigators have accused him and most of his ministers of corruption. This makes Brazilian foreign policy fragile and contradictory in this field despite the government’s efforts to cast itself as a champion of integrity. It is much more like “a saint with feet of clay,” according to a Brazilian saying.

President Temer and his Foreign Ministers’ two-pronged approach to foreign policy entails risks for Brazil’s international clout. By deconstructing the so-called “ideological diplomacy” of Lula, Dilma, and their Workers Party, the new team is eliminating an agenda that has achieved unity, albeit in fits and starts, of the continent around a series of issues relevant to them all. Their efforts to refocus policy on trade and financial issues – essentially a neoliberal agenda that most of the region has rejected – may ultimately yield them economic and political benefits at home, but at the cost of moving Brazil off center stage and reducing its ability to provide regional leadership in the future. The country’s inability to drive a regionally-supported resolution in Venezuela is already being felt. Even if this reorientation of foreign policy is ultimately successful, the political capital that gave Brazil a higher international profile as a major world democracy will be difficult to rebuild.

September 6, 2017

*Gilberto M.A. Rodrigues is Professor of International Relations at the Federal University of ABC (UFABC) in Brazil, and was a CLALS Research Fellow in 2017.

Everybody seems to love President Mauricio Macri outside Argentina – it’s not hard to understand why – but he faces tough challenges at home. Foreign supporters have plenty of reasons to believe in him. First, he is not Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, the former president whom they branded a populist too close to Venezuela, Bolivia, or Ecuador. Like many conservatives inside Argentina itself, they see Macri as the person who avoided the “Venezuelization” of the country, and his market-friendly credentials were sealed through his campaign promise of a “rain of investment” and his government’s implementation of a package of measures aimed at financial liberalization, regulatory flexibility, liberalization of foreign trade, and stronger fiscal discipline. He has been less confrontational in diplomacy. “Return to the world,” “de-ideologization,” “pragmatism,” and “transparency” are the continuous slogans that draw the foreign accolades.

Things look different at home, however. The federal government confronts a convoluted scenario in the next 100 days, during which it will face at least three sets of sensitive issues in the run-up to Legislative primaries in August and elections in October.

Domestic issues. The government will have to deal with a hostile internal front. One challenge will be resolving a long-running pay dispute with teacher unions – especially in the province of Buenos Aires. Another is quelling complaints about steep increases in the costs of government services and deep slashes in funding for Science and Technology, Culture, Human Rights, Health, Production, and Energy. Macri’s failure to meet inflation reduction targets (prices rose by 40 percent in 2016); the need to stimulate the economy; and debates on tax reform are a daunting agenda.

Controversy over human rights and immigration. One of the Achilles’ heels of the current administration is the imprisonment of social activist Milagro Sala in the northwestern province of Jujuy. An ally of former President Fernández de Kirchner, Sala was arrested in January 2016 – one month after Macri took office – on highly contested charges: initially of “instigate criminal activity disorder” and later of “illicit association, fraud, and extortion.” Pope Francis, Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau, and UN officials have expressed concern, fueling tensions inside Argentina. An immigration reform decree facilitating deportations and restricting access at border crossings has been rejected by social movements, international organizations, and much of the Argentine political opposition. The repudiation is not only felt in the formal political arena but also on the streets.

External dynamics with internal consequences. Brazil’s Lava Jato scandal is splashing as much onto Macri’s government as his predecessor’s. Officials from both administrations are being accused of receiving bribes from Odebrecht, the largest Brazilian construction company, and no one knows how this process will develop hereafter. Congresswoman and Macri ally Elisa Carrió claims the whole political elite is complicit in the Odebrecht mess. The “Panama Papers” – leaked from the law firm Mossack Fonseca, which allegedly was involved in helping companies hide bribes paid to a number of South American leaders – has so far not touched Macri, whose family has links to firms cited in the documents.

The August primaries, followed by full legislative elections in October, are a potential inflection point for both Macri and his opponents. Neither side has yet announced its slate of candidates, but one essential factor is already clear: the candidacy (or not) of Cristina Fernández de Kirchner. The primary election will define how the pieces of the political chessboard are placed, and Macri’s handling of his economic, political, and social challenges will be decisive. Achievement of his reform agenda – including the overhauling the National Institute of Statistics and Census (INDEC, accused of cooking data during previous governments), an ambitious “Plan Belgrano” infrastructure program, and the end of currency controls – may not be enough. The potential reunification of his key Peronist opponents, increased social unrest, splits in his own coalition, and the spillover from the Brazilian crisis suggest a sobering future. True love cannot be achieved from one day to the next, but in the domestic political arena it is simple to lose it suddenly.

June 8, 2017

* Nicolás Comini is Research Fellow at CLALS; Director of the Bachelor and Master Programs in International Relations (Universidad del Salvador, Argentina); and Professor at the New York University-Buenos Aires.

Brazil’s political turmoil has reached new heights with the leaking of audio recordings of President Temer allegedly authorizing bribes to prevent the former Speaker of the House, Eduardo Cunha, from concluding a plea bargain arrangement with investigators. Although the recordings were inconclusive and Temer alleges that they were fabricated, their emergence was enough to push an already fragile government to the verge of collapse in less than 24 hours. The day after the leak, according to press reports, four of Temer’s ministers were already discussing his replacement at a closed meeting with current Speaker of the House Rodrigo Maia, who is the next in line for succession. Some parties, such as the PPS, have already left Temer’s coalition. The PSDB, Brazil’s largest center-right party and Temer’s main coalition partner, is also discussing a possible withdrawal from government. (The party’s former President and one of Temer’s closest allies, Senator Aécio Neves, was removed from office by a Supreme Court decision as part of Operation Car Wash. (See here and here for previous articles about the Lava Jato investigations.)

Temer has denied the possibility of resigning, but there are a few ways he could be forcefully removed from office. Most observers argue that, however he departs, the Constitution would require his successor to be indirectly elected by Congress within 30 days. Others posit, however, that if the Superior Electoral Court condemns Dilma and Temer together for illicit funding in the 2014 Presidential campaign – the trial is in early June and is likely to be the fastest possible way to remove Temer – then the electoral code dictates that new direct popular elections be held (as long as annulment is not declared within the last six months of their term, which ends in December 2018).

Key political actors seem to be favoring the scenario in which Congress indirectly elects the successor. Although very fragmented, the Brazilian Congress is mostly conservative or right-leaning, and many of its members fear that former President Luis Inácio Lula da Silva, who polls currently indicate would easily defeat any other candidate, might be elected in a popular election.

In this context, indirect election would put Brazil’s political system on the very edge of legality. During a similar crisis in 1964, Congress’s ousted left-wing acting Vice President João Goulart and elected another itself, without popular approval, in an act almost universally seen today as illegal. That act ended up throwing Brazil into a violent military dictatorship that lasted for more than two decades. In the current political crisis, if Congress were to act against the current rules of the electoral code and without popular approval, this could again be another step towards the establishment of an illegal regime, which could further curtail accountability and democratic mechanisms in the country. Placing the destiny of the country in the hands of a Congress, with many of its members under investigation themselves, might be a mistake with profound consequences. Popular elections would also entail great uncertainty as well, but the uncertainty of elections is an inherent element of democratic systems. When political actors try to limit or manipulate electoral outcomes in the name of predictability or security, this is when democracy dies.

May 19, 2017

* Marcio Cunha Filho is a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Brasília; federal auditor in Brazil’s Office of the Comptroller General; and CLALS Research Fellow.

Self-inflicted troubles are forcing Brazilian President Michel Temer into difficult choices between his party and an angry public. When he became president three months ago, his game plan was simple and bold: undertake legislative reforms that would put the government’s accounts back on track, enhance investor confidence, stimulate an economic recovery, and possibly set the stage for a center-right presidential bid (if not by Temer himself, at least by a close ally) in the 2018 elections. Allies in his Brazilian Democratic Movement Party (PMDB) would ensure that he had the backing of Congress to push through reforms that might not bring immediate returns, but nonetheless might improve investor confidence. Sotto voce, many politicians also assumed that the PMDB would be well placed to slow the pace of the bloodletting occasioned by the massive Lava Jato investigation and stabilize the political system.

Last week, the public’s worst suspicions of the PMDB-led government were confirmed by a two-bit scandal that claimed Government Secretary Geddel Vieira Lima, who was putting pressure – with Temer’s help – on a historical registry office to authorize construction of a Salvador building in which he had purchased an apartment. Temer sought to repair the damage by holding an unusual press conference Sunday in which he promised to veto a proposed congressional amnesty of illegal campaign contributions. But Temer now faces another important ethical fork in the road: how to respond to Chamber of Deputies approval of anti-corruption legislation yesterday that – while originally intended to boost efforts to clean up government – neuters the reforms and prevents judicial “abuses,” a move widely seen as an effort to intimidate judges and prosecutors. The bill now heads to the Senate, which seems unlikely to repair the damage and indeed, may further distort the bill in an effort to undermine Temer’s ability to resurrect the reforms through selective vetoes. The reform package had been a poster child for the prosecutors spearheading the Lava Jato investigation, and it was pushed by a petition drive that gathered more than two million signatures. Prosecutors have threatened to resign if Temer signs the severely mangled measure into law.

Despite Temer’s initial successes, the outlook for the remainder of his term remains grim. The bad news is going to continue, causing the Congress and Temer even more sleepless nights. A deal expected soon reportedly will require the Odebrecht construction firm to pay a record-breaking penalty for its corrupt practices (perhaps surpassing even the US$1.6 billion Siemens paid to U.S. and European authorities in 2008), and plea bargains by nearly 80 company executives might implicate as many as 200 federal politicians. It threatens to paralyze legislators and further weaken the PMDB’s already decimated crew, undermining Temer’s ability to coordinate with Congress. Economic forecasts now show economic growth of less than 1 percent in 2017 and, with 26 state governments facing budget crises, politically influential governors are begging for federal help. A much-needed pension reform promised by Temer has not yet been made public, much less begun the tortuous amendment process in Congress. Temer increasingly is being forced to choose between helping his allies and achieving reform, or satisfying a public fed up with politics as usual and baying for accountability and a political cleanup. It will take all of Temer’s considerable political skills and knowledge of backroom Brasília to revise his game plan for these challenging times.

December 1, 2016

* Matthew Taylor is Associate Professor at the School of International Service at American University and Adjunct Senior Fellow for Latin America Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations. This is adapted from this CFR blogpost.

Brazil’s Federal Prosecutors – treated as heroes by parts of Brazilian society and the mainstream press – have become so powerful and aggressive that they face growing allegations of violating some civil and political rights. The Lava Jato(Car Wash) investigation that helped bring down President Dilma Rousseff is notthe first time that prosecutors have been in the spotlight; they are often easier to find in newspapers’ political section than among crime news. For instance, during the 1990s State Prosecutors sued hundreds of mayors and became protagonists in theMensalão, a campaign finance scandal during theadministration of President Lula da Silva. But their activities have never been as intense as recently, leading to the unprecedented “judicialization” of politics, a term that political scientists use to refer to over-reliance on the judicial system to mediate policy debates and political disputes.

The roots of prosecutors’ extraordinary power are in the 1988 Constitution, which assured theirautonomy and gave them extensive civil and criminal tools with which to act. At the same time, lawmakers created few processes to ensure prosecutor accountability, making them autonomous even in relation to the Procurador-Geral da República, whois supposed to be the chief Federal Prosecutor but cannot provide effective oversight under current law. After passingthe pre-employment examination, prosecutorscannot be fired or demoted. They are an army of 10,000 who are entirely independent of politicians and society. Unlike in the United States, where the President can dismiss a U.S. Attorney and electors can vote out a District Attorney, Brazil lacks analogous mechanisms for ensuring prosecutors’ professionalism.

Two innovations during the Partido dos Trabalhadores (PT) governments of Presidents Lula and Dilma fed the powers that now try to devour them.

While nominating Chief Prosecutors for their two-year terms, they essentially waived their right to choose by going with the candidates with the most support from their own agency colleagues, at times based on institutional interests (such as wages) rather than professional integrity and vision. Not only did this weaken the influence of the incumbent President; it opened the way for leading prosecutorsfriendly with past administrationsto become relentless pursuersof PTleaders. Dilma also approved legislation expanding prosecutors’ authority to offer plea bargains, reducingsuspects’ sentences in exchange for information about accomplices and their bosses. Prosecutors and the judge responsible for Lava Jato have been constantly ordering arrests of officials, whose only ticket out of prison is to turn over information. Yet, sincepotential snitches cannot receive credit for reporting cases and names that have already been provided by others, this process has created a voracious accusation market and a deluge of new “facts” and new names, particularly includingPT leaders. Suspects are condemned by public opinion, creating a true cycle that feeds on itself.

A survey released last week by VoxPopuli and Brazil’s largest trade union federation, the Central Única dos Trabalhadores (CUT), shows that 43 percent of Brazilians think prosecutors are “fair” and treat all politicians equally. But an almost equal number – 41 percent – claim prosecutors persecute politicians from the PT and do not act against politicians from its principal adversary, the PSDB. With Brazilian society split over the Brazilian Prosecutors Office’sintegrity, the lack of any instrument for punishing or rewarding prosecutors is particularly problematic. Brazilian citizens have few political and legal toolsto wield against prosecutors whom they believe abuse power. When institutions fail and do not shape behavior, personal and political agendas become paramount. This is not a good democratic model, even when prosecutors are supposedly fighting against corruption. It opens the door to political witch hunts and erodes popular confidence in democracy and its institutions.

October 27, 2016

* Fabio Kercheis a CLALS Research Fellow and Researcher at Casa de Rui Barbosa Foundation, Rio de Janeiro.

Secretary General Luis Almagro’s quest to revitalize the Organization of American States (OAS) seems premised on being an “activist” Secretary General in what could be a make-or-break gambit to assert the organization’s hemispheric leadership. Only 13 months in office, Almagro has taken an approach that is a clear departure from the low-key, consensus-building ways of former Secretary General José Miguel Insulza. In his 2015 inaugural address, Almagro laid out his plans for the rejuvenation of the OAS, including internal changes to “adapt it to the realities of the 21st century” and “insert [it] into a world different from the one in which it was developed and has grown and operated.” Almagro underscored the need for the OAS to promote transparent and inclusive elections throughout Latin America and, in regard to democratic governance, “lend a hand to countries that are going through moments of tension and conflict.”

Almagro has taken a number of positions that confirm his desire to redefine the OAS’s role in the region.

In 2015, Almagro took the lead in developing a plan to fight corruption in Honduras, resulting in the formation of the Support Mission Against Corruption and Impunity (MACCIH) – a watered-down version of the successful UN-backed CICIG in Guatemala. The jury is still out on whether MACCIH will have a serious impact, but Almagro has staked his reputation on its credibility.

He has claimed that the impeachment of Brazilian President Dilma Rousseff lacked sufficient justification and that accusations against her were politically driven. Almagro also called for anticorruption investigations under Operação Lava Jato to continue as essential for the rule of law.

Prior to the Peruvian elections, Almagro warned that the disqualification of two candidates reflected unequal application of the law and raised concerns that the contests would be “semi-democratic.” Following a meeting with disqualified frontrunner Julio Gómez, Almagro called for the reinstatement of both candidates’ right to participate in the elections.

Perhaps Almagro’s most controversial action has been his attempt to invoke the OAS Democratic Charter against the government of Venezuela, without a finding by the Permanent Council, as required under Article 20 of the Charter, that the situation there amounts to “an unconstitutional alteration of a constitutional regime.” The Permanent Council implicitly rejected his appeal by urging more dialogue between the OAS and Venezuela. Almagro then sent a strongly worded letter to Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro accusing him of lying and “betraying his people,” and calling for the release of political prisoners, restoration of legitimate powers to the National Assembly, and a referendum to recall Maduro in 2016. (The Permanent Council is set to discuss the situation in Venezuela again on June 21.)

Almagro has taken on some very difficult issues, and explanations for his motivations are varied but not mutually exclusive. Some observers perceive a personal embrace of OAS principles, others detect a desire to avoid the sort of U.S. criticism that plagued Insulza and constrained U.S. support and funding, and still others speculate about his future political ambitions as a reformist on the non-radical left of Latin America.The democratic principles he is defending are clearly enshrined in OAS documents, but his activism has so far not reversed adverse situations: Rousseff was impeached, the Peruvian candidates were forced to sit out the election, and Maduro has yet to soften. Being an “activist” Secretary General in the case of Venezuela entails great risks; his predecessors were criticized both for getting too directly involved in the country’s internal affairs and for remaining passive in the face of growing authoritarianism in Caracas. It seems, moreover, as though Almagro has often acted alone, and the tone of his letter to Maduro was uniquely strident. A great deal is on the line for the OAS. If Almagro’s activism works, it will enhance the organization’s leadership on a range of issues confronting the hemisphere, but it may also put the OAS in the middle of future conflicts in which failure would bring a loss of institutional credibility.

June 16, 2016

* Maria Carrasquillo is a recent graduate of the M.A. Program in American University’s School of International Service and a research assistant at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies.

Brazil’s snowballing scandals are generating a high level of uncertainty regarding the country’s political future. “Operation Car Wash”—a two-year investigation by a task force of the Federal Police and the Federal Prosecutors—has already led to the conviction and 20-year imprisonment of several senior officials from Petrobras and prominent construction companies, and others are likely to follow. In Brazil, congressmen, cabinet ministers, and the President can be criminally charged only by the Supreme Court, through a long, difficult process called “privileged forum.” On March 17, former President Lula, under investigation for allegedly receiving two properties as a bribe from construction companies, was designated a Minister of State in President Dilma Rousseff’s administration, an appointment that would have afforded him that protection. The judge pursuing him released a recording of a call from Dilma offering him immunity as well as Lula’s calls on family and other private matters. Many in the Brazilian legal community have disapproved of the judge’s disclosure of the calls as disrespecting the rule of law and the right to privacy, but the damage to Dilma and Lula was done.

Calls for the President’s impeachment are surging—and she repeatedly rejects the pressure to resign. On Sunday, March 13, a half-million people protested in São Paulo, and the press estimates that another 1-2 million demonstrated elsewhere around the country. (Demonstrations supporting Dilma have attracted 100,000 citizens in São Paulo.) The PMDB, party of Vice-President Michel Temer and President of the House Eduardo Cunha, is officially quitting the government this week, and other minor parties appear likely to do the same, definitely cracking the presidential support. The impeachment process in Brazil has two steps. In the House, two-thirds of its 513 members (342 votes) are required for “admission” or approval, in which case the Senate can decide by majority vote to take up the charges, resulting in the President being suspended for up to 180 days. Conviction requires the votes of two thirds of the 81 senators. Although press reports indicate the mood is for the impeachment, the government is offering positions and funds individually to Congressmen and in hopes of achieving a low turnout to stop the process in the House.

Predicting the outcome of such a volatile situation is inherently risky, but discussion of post-Dilma scenarios is growing increasingly common. Should she step down or be removed from office, Vice-President Michel Temer would be her constitutional successor. Like Dilma, however, Temer is being charged by the Superior Electoral Court on suspicion of illegal campaign financing and, if convicted, would not be allowed to take office. The next two in line to succeed her—President of the House Eduardo Cunha and President of the Senate Renan Calheiros—have been snagged by Operation Car Wash and face charges by the Supreme Court, suggesting that they too could be disqualified. (The Federal Attorney General has already asked the Supreme Court to issue a preventive order to remove Cunha because of evidence that he has received US$5 million in secret Swiss bank accounts, without any justification.) That leaves Supreme Court President Ricardo Lewandowski as a possible successor for a maximum period of 90 days, at which point elections would be called. As Brazil faces crisis after crisis, the press have taken to commenting that the country’s fast-paced, dramatic events make the American series House of Cards look slow and boring.

March 30, 2016

* Silvio Levcovitz is a CLALS Fellow and political science PhD candidate at the Universidade Estadual de Campinas, São Paulo. He has been a public lawyer in Brazil and is researching criminal cases of corruption and civil claims of administrative misconduct from 1991 to 2014.